


Clark Kent’s Kryptonite

by Hella_Queer



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:28:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28858851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hella_Queer/pseuds/Hella_Queer
Summary: “You want a distraction?” Mike asks, nosing at Bill’s temple. Bill tilts his chin up wordlessly, eyes already half closed before Mike can even kiss the corner of his mouth.“Yeah,” Bill murmurs, chasing after him.
Relationships: Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12





	Clark Kent’s Kryptonite

**Author's Note:**

> A wonderful prompt from Andy presented in the most hilarious way. Thanks bean!

When Bill comes out of his office with his reading glasses pushed up into his hair, Mike sets aside the book he was reading and opens his arms, catching him when Bill flops onto him with a disgruntled wail. He wraps his arms around him, humming quietly as Bill gets comfortable, head tucked beneath his chin. 

“I take it the editing isn’t going your way?” Bill had kissed him long and hard after breakfast, stating that it would be the last pleasurable thing he’d get to do for several hours. Whenever Mike had popped in to check on him Bill always shooed him away, eyes never leaving his screen. 

Now he slips his hands under Mike’s sweater and rubs them up and down his back. “I wish I was using pen and paper so I could rip the manuscript to shreds. Just deleting the document isn’t enough.”

Knowing how hard on himself Bill can be, Mike keeps quiet. He massages the back of his neck with one hand and holds him close with the other, smiling when the tension slowly creeps out of his boyfriend’s shoulders. 

Bill has been really busy these last few weeks, keeping odd hours and venturing out of his office only for meals and coffee refills. Mike knows how important his work is to him, but he can’t say that he hates having Bill in his arms again. Their last proper date was a month ago, their last lazy day even further back. It felt silly to miss someone you saw every day, but Mike hasn’t been seeing Bill, the man who kissed his eyelids on rainy days. He’s been dealing with William Denbrough, best selling author and workaholic. 

So maybe his suggestion is a little self-serving. 

Mike kisses Bill’s forehead, the hand that was massaging his neck changing position to cradle the back of his head. He threads his fingers through Bill’s hair, treasuring the way his breath hitches. 

“You want a distraction?” Mike asks, nosing at Bill’s temple. Bill tilts his chin up wordlessly, eyes already half closed before Mike can even kiss the corner of his mouth. 

“Yeah,” Bill murmurs, chasing after him. 

The kisses start off sweet and gentle. They do not stay that way for long. Bill licks into Mike’s mouth with a needy groan, hands roaming across his chest now. Mike finds himself fighting for control without making a conscious effort to do so, swept up in Bill’s current like always. 

Mike gains the upper hand when he twists his fingers in Bill’s hair, holding him still while he plays with his bottom lip. Bill rocks his hips forward, having pushed Mike’s sweater nearly up to his shoulders. Neither of them are wearing much, with Bill in one of Mike’s shirts and his boxers, and Mike in a pair of sweatpants. It’s easy to tell that they’re both hard. Easier still when Bill slips a hand between them and starts palming where they grey fabric is getting darker. 

“I think I’ve been neglecting you, Mikey.” Bill kisses the side of his neck, sucking and biting on the spot just below his ear. “You’ve been taking such good care of me, and I haven’t even thanked you for it.”

With a surprisingly chaste final kiss Bill slides down to the floor, wasting no time in pulling Mike out of his sweatpants. Mike notes with a twisted sense of satisfaction that Bill moves slowly, teasing more than he usually does. It’s been a while since they’ve ventured farther than handjobs in the shower, and clearly Bill is out of practice. 

He doesn’t let that stop him. 

Bill holds the base of Mike’s cock with both hands, holding Mike’s gaze as he gets to work. For the longest time Bill doesn’t go farther than the tip. He keeps a tight seal with his lips, driving Mike mad with the way his tongue laps up every drop of precum the moment it bubbles up from the slit. When he opens his mouth a mixture of spit and precum run in rivulets down Mike’s shaft, spilling over Bill’s fingers and onto Mike’s lap. 

“There you go,” Mike gasps when Bill finally takes him in deeper. The improvised lube slicks the way, and every stroke of Bill’s hand sounds wetter and sloppier than the one before. Mike tips his head back against the couch, letting his hips roll into Bill’s touch. 

Bill’s glasses have shifted in hair and are dangerously close to falling. Instead of removing them, Mike slips them back onto Bill’s face, adjusting them so they sit on his nose properly. He’s seen Bill wear them dozens of times, has seen them on the back of most of his books, but for some reason he can’t get used to them. Like a fake beard in a cheesy sitcom, the glasses act as a disguise, transforming Mike’s boyfriend into someone else entirely. 

William Denbrough blinks up at him, blue eyes dark and shiny, pretty mouth stretched wide around his cock.

Mike cups his cheek with one hand, thumb rubbing delicately under his eye, then wraps his other hand around his throat. Bill shudders, moving his hands to grip Mike’s thighs. Whatever careful composure he had before vanishes: Bill swallows Mike nearly to the root and doesn’t pull back for air until Mike makes him. 

“I think I wanna do this before one of your meetings.” The words fall heavy from Mike’s lips, surprising them both. Bill slides his hands up Mike’s legs until he reaches his hips. He squeezes once, encouraging, flicking his tongue against the slit to get Mike moving again. 

Taking a deep breath through his nose Mike reclaims his hold on Bill’s hair, his grip a little harsher than normal. Bill moans, a high and needy sound that Mike can feel in his fingertips. He can feel every rushed inhale, every time Bill swallows and gags when he pushes himself too far too fast. Without his hands to guide him Bill’s technique is sloppy. He’s not as reserved, not as slow or careful. 

“I think you like this.” Mike holds him back until just the tip is resting on his bottom lip. Bill strains against his hold, fingers gripping tighter to Mike’s hips. “You don’t have to think. All you have to do is be good for me.”

Bill can’t even beg like Mike thinks he wants to. He whines, squirming on his knees, trying to get closer. Mike can’t imagine how hard he must be, but he quickly realizes he doesn’t need to wonder. 

He shoves a leg between Bill’s thighs and almost loses it when Bill starts grinding against him. They’re both panting, clutching at each other, desperation and greed coloring their every movement. Mike can feel Bill’s throat working underneath his fingers, fluttering and flexing and stretching to accommodate Mike’s increasingly frantic pace. 

Bill moans in triumph when he finally, finally swallows Mike to the base, nose buried in thick, curly hair. He inhales deeply, grinding harder against Mike’s leg, and the sight of him like this, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes, getting off on the scent of him, has Mike bucking his hips without too much thought. When Bill pulls away coughing and gasping he brings with him thick strings of spit that break away and wet his chin. 

“You okay?” Mike pets a shaky hand through Bill’s hair, thighs flexing as he struggles not to push himself back into Bill’s mouth. He savors the feeling of Bill’s throat beneath his hand before letting go and gripping the base of his cock instead. He strikes himself once, twice, slick and wet like half a bottle of lube was upended in his lap. 

Bill nods, pretty eyes shiny with tears, pretty mouth plump and red and waiting to taste him again. “Close.” He shudders the next time he rolls his hips, eyes falling shut as he visibly restrains himself. Mike almost blows his load right then and there. 

“Yeah?” He guides him closer with the hand still in his hair. “Just from humping my leg?”

Bill looks startled, the flush in his cheeks intensifying. He squirms, forcing Mike to tighten his grip. 

“I want to try som–“

“Anything.” 

So they move to the floor. 

Bill takes his shirt off with little prompting, and after a moment of weighted silence removes his boxers for good measure. Mike crawls over him without acknowledging how hard and red and wet his cock is, much to Bill’s...pleasure? He’s damn near panting again by the time Mike is straddling his chest. 

“Gimme your hands.” Mike is shaking, every heartbeat accompanied by an answering throb below the belt. Bill crosses his hands at the wrist and puts them above his head, arching his back when Mike gathers them up and pins them to the ground. He’s always hesitant to use his full weight against Bill but right now he doesn’t want him going anywhere. 

“I’m not gonna last long.” This alone is almost enough to finish him off, Bill willing and wanton and naked beneath him, sweaty and flushed down to his chest. He drags his dick across Bill’s mouth, smearing spit and precum all over his cheeks, 

“I don’t care.”

Bill opens his mouth, moaning gratefully when Mike pushes inside. If he had any reservations before they’re nowhere to be seen now. Mike holds the side of his head to keep him still as he fucks his throat and Bill just _takes_ it. There’s no rhythm, no finesse. Sometimes Mike only gives him the head, popping in and out of his mouth just to see the way Bill’s tongue guides him back in. When he puts pressure on Bill’s jaw he moans even louder, the sound cutting off whenever Mike thrusts particularly deep. 

He wants to live in the hot, wet clutch of Bill’s throat, keep him warm and pliant like he is now, rolling his hips up against nothing, blissfully happy to be used. He fights against Mike’s grip for show, but Mike thinks if he had this hands free he wouldn’t be touching himself. He’d be playing with Mike’s ass, smirking at him as best he could with his mouth full, shoving him towards the edge because he loves when Mike let’s go, when he takes what he wants, when he takes _him._

The first spurt of cum hits the back of Bill’s throat. The next on the center of his tongue. The rest ends up all over his face. 

Mike tries his best to keep it out of his hair but he’s having trouble keeping his eyes open, let alone perfecting his sim. Bill whines below him, lapping at his messy fingers, hips working furiously where Mike can’t see. He’s surprised Bill can see anything at all considering his little reading glasses are now tinted white. 

“Fuck,” Mike laughs, breathy and light. He pets Bill’s cheek with the hand not massaging his wrists, doing nothing to clean him up. He lowers the glasses down the bridge of Bill’s nose and is hit with a dark and desperate gaze. He smiles, kissing his forehead. 

“Still with me, sweetheart?” Mike climbs off of Bill to lay beside him, petting through his hair with his clean hand. The other he slides down Bill’s chest, slow and deliberate. 

_“Mike_.” Just one word, just his name, sharp and pleading and trembling. Any other night Mike would show mercy, give Bill exactly what he needs. But tonight? 

“I’m not ready to be done with you.”


End file.
